Author's Notes: This labor of love was a result of repeated viewings of the episode Abyss. (The episode was a treasure trove for angst.) It deals with Chloe actually noticing something off about her memories. C'mon. She's Chloe. She should have noticed something. And it probably wouldn't have been all that easy for plot is my attempt at dealing with the question of what Chloe would have done.

This is an attempt at an epic series, or an interconnected thread of one shots. This is my first fanfic ever, technically second, but I was ten at the time, and...that is my only excuse for excessively odd writing.

It occurred to me you might want to know about pairings.

Pairings: Chloe/Davis, shades of Chloe/Clark and *greentinge* Chloe/Jimmy.

Disclaimer: I do not have the magical PS3/SWF-ing powers of the owners of Smallville. I did not create the red-and-blue-blur. I have no claim on any characters herein, only the rantings of my brain. And I did not write the anvil-dropping travesty that was Bride, thank god.

Do not go gentle into that good night,

...burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

....

Dylan Thomas- Do Not Go Gentle...

She wakes up at four A.M. and thinks it's worse this time around. It was bad enough to start losing it all the first time, (the memories, faces-everything going blank in her mind). But then she knew that there was something terrible happening, something with an explanation.

Her best friend (Clark) said that there was something terribly wrong with her. She believed him then. It felt like she knew why.

And then inexplicably, it was fixed. Deux-Ex-Machina. Davis took her to the apartment, took her back to Clark and Jimmy and gave her a sedative.

Then she woke up (alone with them). She remembered things strangely, just like that, it was all back. (She knew there was no magic injection. She had checked the needle in the wastebasket. it was common enough, just some kind of benzodiazepine from Davis's coat.)

Clark said he was glad she was okay. She had smiled brightly, and teased him. And she thought that there something off about him somehow. Maybe it was his slightly wan smile, the one that didn't reach his eyes. She wished that he would really smile. One of those smiles that really lit up his whole face. One of those smiles she used to love so much.

Maybe he just had a bad day. A friend going crazy? That could qualify as a bad day. But deep down, she doesn't believe the look on his face and she doesn't know why.

She's losing her mind again, she knows. She's losing it slower, more subtly than before. She remembers specifics now. It's the bigger picture that is off. The larger pieces of who she is - those lovely intangibles that don't ...fit...quite right.

She thinks that maybe that's how it started with her mother. Maybe, she didn't lose her all at once, little parts of her crumbled away until there was nothing but a shell. Maybe the meteors were affecting her too. Just like that.

She feels like one of those borgs. Her best friend, her fiance… They look at her and smile like they expect something from her. Sweetness. Light. Snark. She plays along.

And she knows she loves them. (Not like that the first time...she couldn't feel.) She also knows that this isn't all that it should be. She feels like everything is just kind of feelings, the thoughts, are like simulations. She feels them, but she doesn't feel connected.

She hates the journalistic idea of having to know why everything adds up sometimes, but it's all that she has left to think of. She needs it. She can never answer that question.

Maybe her madness started in little bits and pieces-little by little, even before now. She'd just made choices at the drop of a hat. Maybe her logic had been the first thing to go.

She has no job now. She'd been a counselor. Now she wasn't.

She'd quit reporting. True, her expose' on meteor freak experiments had been terrifying. Sure she had been fired by the Planet. But she had loved journalism. Really loved it. She could have found work elsewhere, some other less prestigious newspaper, writing in the basement, again.

Chloe Sullivan, Investigative Reporter. That had been her byline. It made her happy. It made her real. She'd stopped. (Why had she stopped?)

She wishes she could tell Davis about this. She thinks he would understand. But she knows it wouldn't be right. Not after what he'd said. Not after what she'd said. Not if she was going to go through with everything else.

She knows she's getting married this next week.

"I just want to marry the man I love." she tells the mirror and hopes it is the truth.

Jimmy, a sweet boy- the man that cares for her a lot. She thinks that he was the first one to love her when Clark would not. Not that way.

Clark had loved someone else. Lana. Her friend. Beautiful and broken and the perfect girl next door. They hadn't worked out. Secrets? Yes, she thinks it was secrets. Only, Clark Kent didn't have any secrets. He was as wholesome... as any farm boy was. She didn't think he was wild deep down. Maybe it was her. In most of the memories she recalls, he is always with her. They mostly talk. Inane conversations she can't remember exactly.

Why was he around her so much? Maybe her feelings hadn't been so one sided.

Maybe she was the secret...

Jimmy! He thought so. He felt insecure, when he had seen that closeness between her and Clark. She doesn't think that those feelings have gone away-not entirely.

Now she and Jimmy are getting married. She thinks she loves him.

Being near him doesn't hurt like she's hurt twice in her life. She remembers that before him love burned her up and hurt like healing (when she could). (It hurt before, with Clark, but why?)

She's never seen Jimmy looking quite so lost like Davis (like her). She doesn't feel like trying to pull the pain? fear? out of his eyes when he looks at her, or like forgetting there is anyone else in the room but him. She doesn't feel that pain in her gut, watching his retreating back and trying to believe that feeling that connected them was never 'this'.

She doesn't feel sad because she'll never take that leap, and never know.

She has Jimmy. Jimmy is safe, dependable. (He almost acts like she's the only woman there is. Almost.) She's been hoping to grow into him.

Now she doesn't know if she can. Why is she doing this to him? Will he still love her when she starts to lose him again? She imagines herself married, in five years time. She tries to imagine what it would be like with him.

She'd always thought she'd want children. A girl and a boy. Someday. If she had them, would she forget why she loved them too? Would she forget they were human and breakable like her mother did?

She remembers herself (younger, smaller). She remembers her hands- washing them, washing them until they dripped red. Her mother couldn't help it. It was the id and the meteors.

Chloe knows she's been infected. It doesn't matter that the powers are gone. (Why are they gone? Just leaving all this madness in her head?) She could be like her mother in five years time.

She may be mad, but she will not show that madness to anyone else. Not to her friend, not to Jimmy, not to her children-that-do-not-exist.

She might lose everything. Not today, or tomorrow, maybe. But eventually. She can't just be fixed.

She still wants to fix herself. But then it hurts and she just can't think anymore about this.

She tries not to. She simply walks out on the porch, lost in the folds of her floppy green gown and tries looking out. It's still dark, the sky in hues of grayish purple. She finds herself inexplicably expectant, preparing for a rush of wind to hit her in the face.

Ridiculous. She thinks. There are few strong winds in Smallville.

It always comes down to Smallville.

She's grown up here. She's lived here. She's losing it here.

Then she thinks of what Lois said, half in jest. "You should come to visit Metropolis. We should have a bachelorette week."

Lois, of course, would say that. It would not be enough for it to be a bachelorette party complete with flirty men, dirty dancing and beer. No. A bachelorette week.

"It's your last free week ever. You can crash at my apartment. We can catch up and you can be crazy Chloe again. Not Suzy-homemaker."

She'd told Lois she was busy with the wedding planning. (It had been only half true.) She'd been so sure, then, that everything was fine. That the last thing she needed was to run away for a little while.

The invitations to the wedding are all done now. The location is selected. Everything is ready. And now she needs to get away. She has one week to put herself together. If listening to arena rock all day is the price she pays... she thinks it might be worth it.

In half an hour she's texted Lois, and packed and ready to go. In three hours Lois will be here, she thinks.

She looks at Jimmy, snoring softly, stretched out over her spot in the bed. She sits and waits until he wakes up.

She knows what she will say. "I'm keeping with tradition." She'll tell him."You said it was bad luck for the groom to see the Bride before the wedding. I'm just making doubly sure there won't be any black cats or government agents in attendance."

He'll smile boyishly, and it'll make her feel something like guilt.

She won't tell him that she's falling apart. She won't say that she needs to put herself together again.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Questions. Comments? Critiques? Devious plots?

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That's it for now. Me signing out!